Fear of Frying

them, leaning against the wall and watching his wife. “Isn’t she a wonder?“ he said admiringly.
    He was just what Jane needed at that moment. A big, gooey jolt of contentment. A man who was proud of his wife. “You’re a good man, Al Flowers!“ she said with a smile.
    They gathered up Bob Rycraft, who seemed determined to enthusiastically examine every room, and left the building. “Now we’re in for a bit of a walk,“ Benson warned them cheerfully, “but it’ll be worth it.“
    “I’ll bet,“ Eileen Claypool muttered. She had developed a serious limp.
    The group returned to the main lodge, circled it, and continued south along the road that ran past their cabins. Benson took it slow and easy, allowing them to stop in their cabins and get cameras (Liz and Shelley), binoculars (Marge), Band-Aids (Eileen), and take bathroom breaks (Jane). Just beyond the cabins, the road turned into more of a path and rose slightly.
    “Look at Marge,“ Shelley whispered.
    Jane glanced back. Marge was walking extremely close to Sam, surveying the woods around them with quick glances. “She doesn’t like nature much, does she?“ Jane whispered back. “I guess the outdoors just isn’t for everyone.“
    “She’s been jumpy the whole time we’ve been around her,“ Shelley said. “It’s odd. I don’t know her well, but I’ve been on lots of committees with her. She’s always seemed shy and retiring, but more placid than nervous.“
    “Well, there was that face she saw at the window.”
    Shelley shook her head. “No, I noticed it before she had her screaming fit. It’s like she was already scared of something. Or somebody.”
    Jane looked at Shelley sharply for a moment, then laughed. “You’ve let the dreary atmosphere of the Conference Center get to you. Next thing you’ll be wanting to stay up late with the lights off and tell ghost stories. And maybe drop aspirin in your soft drink to get drunk.”
    The next stop in the tour of the grounds was much more pleasant. It was one of three campfire sites.
    “We believe that preparing and eating food outdoors can be enjoyable,“ Benson said as they came up the last small rise. “It doesn’t have to be hot dogs and hamburgers and potato chips. It’s possible to cook a really fine meal over a campfire. This is where we’ll be eating dinner tonight, and I’ll be demonstrating some outdoor cooking techniques you might enjoy.”
    It was a nicely mowed area encircling a large campfire site. A low wall of fieldstone defined the fire area, which was already stacked with logs and ready to be lighted. There were a few well-tended chrysanthemums blooming around the nearer side of the grassy verge.
    “Oh, Jane!“ Shelley said, grabbing her arm. “Look at that view!”
    Turning around, Jane realized the woods had been skillfully cleared to offer a view out over the cabins and the lake beyond. She also couldn’t help noticing that the sky was clouding up and there was a chilly wind. “Eating dinner here might be a nippy proposition,“ she said.
    “I don’t suppose you brought long underwear?“ Shelley asked.
    “I don’t own long underwear, Shelley. I live in a house, not a tent.“
    “Never mind. I brought extra,“ Shelley said.
    “Of course you did,“ Jane said. “You’re always prepared for anything. But Liz has a tape measure along. That puts her a point ahead of you.”
    Shelley looked at her, slitty-eyed. “Wanna bet?”
    Liz was asking Benson about medical services.
    “The closest fire station,“ he said, “was just beyond the road where you came in. Before you crossed the bridge. They have an ambulance. The county hospital is five miles from here. We’ll have a nurse on duty who can treat minor injuries.“
    “Poor Benson,“ Jane said. “I’ll bet he didn’t expect to be grilled quite so thoroughly.“
    “But he’s got all the answers,“ Shelley pointed out. “He’s obviously done his homework.“
    “He does seem awfully eager to impress us, doesn’t he?“ Jane said.
    “For all his scruffy looks, he’s a businessman, and that Conference Center must have cost a fortune,“ Shelley replied. “He might have overestimated the number of people who would want to use it. This school thing would bring in a lot of m—”
    Just then Marge screamed again.

Six

    “Sorry, ma’am, didn’t mean to scare you,“ the newcomer said.
    He was a tall, dark man in his fifties with alarmingly heavy eyebrows. He’d come, silently, by some